


Back to You

by Renai_chan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, M/M, Time Travel, Tony Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:59:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve woke up to a world without Howard, so Tony helps him find closure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back to You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nathamuel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathamuel/gifts).



> Banged this little thing out in one afternoon because apparently I don't have a million fics to finish up. Oh well, my lovely friend framesonthewall deserves this and so much more :)
> 
> I had to work _so hard_ not to make this a Stony fic, like, you don't even know.

He'd never been to the Stark mansion before. Missions had kept him deep in the bowels of wartime Europe for the entire time he had known Howard (except of course during that brief time in Brooklyn, but they didn't know anything but each other's names back then, so it didn't count), and then when he had woken from the ice learned that Tony refused to step foot in it, leaving it a boarded-up, empty shell of its former glory, an eyesore smack in the middle of 5th avenue.

There were memories there, Tony had told him, that he'd like to keep there, and when he had told Steve that, he'd had none of his bluster and bravado, instead only a sad look and a small shrug, so Steve hadn't pushed.

It was with that thought in mind that he watched Tony carefully while they waded through the ruins of what was once the Stark family home. Tony led him around the building pointing out rooms, giving him important information, and telling him stories of his youth that were tainted with none of the pain and hurt Steve knew all about.

"And this," Tony said, stopping in front of a simple set of mahogany double doors. "Is my father's office." Steve stopped beside him, waiting for Tony to gather up his courage to push them open. He had told Steve that he’d never been allowed inside and the few times he had been, he'd either snuck in when his father was out or he had been yelled out of his father's presence. Tony sucked in a breath and moved to grip the handles, but Steve stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Tony," he said sincerely. Tony blew out the breath he had just sucked in and laughed.

"I have given millions of dollars' worth of gifts to people I don't like and who don't like me," he started with. "You are my teammate, my confidante, and my best friend, and for some insane reason, you've allowed me the privilege of being yours. I'd do so much more for you." Steve's smile was beaming. "Although I may need to reconsider after you telling me things about my old man that I would gladly have died without knowing." He pushed the doors open without further hesitance while Steve laughed.

"May I remind you that you, with great relish and attention to detail, tell me about each and every one of your past conquests. Be lucky that I keep my stories above the belt," he said, earning a disgusted glare from Tony.

"My gut thanks you very much," was his sarcastic response. Then they were standing before Howard's ratty old desk. 'Howard Stark, CEO, Stark Industries' the completely unnecessary plaque said. "Okay, he'll be working here when time shifts, so you should be standing over in the corner so that you don't startle him too much. I should probably warn you that keeps a gun beneath his desk." Steve nodded; he didn't doubt it. "Do you have the flashy thing?" And Steve rolled his eyes at Tony's entirely gleeful expression. He and Bruce had made an honest-to-God, working Men In Black neuralyzer, and Tony had far too much fun calling it a 'flashy thing.'

"Yes, Tony." He plucked it out of his jeans pocket and shook it in front of Tony's face before replacing it.

"Okay, let's go through the details one more time."

"I have a very good memory, Tony. I remember," he sighed, but Tony leveled a _look_ at him.

"You will be flung into the past without any way of communicating with us for back up. More than that, you _cannot_ make any imprints on the past, any changes, do you understand? No one can see you aside from Howard, and after that, you _will_ erase his memory. Any changes, however minute, will have significant impacts on the future, understood?" Tony's firm reminder was actually pretty nerve wracking, so Steve took it to heart.

"I understand," he answered clearly and firmly. Tony nodded.

"You will be sent to July 29th, 1973, at precisely 2:15pm," he said, and then his face softened. "I'm sorry it couldn't be any earlier, Steve, but that's the earliest and clearest memory I have of dad being alone here." Steve nodded; he understood. Tony had been three years old then--it was more than Steve could have asked for, really. Then Tony promptly ruined it by smirking. "But dad had still been pretty spry in his old age. I'm sure that won't hinder you from anything you plan to do." He waggled his eyebrows, making Steve blush brightly.

"Tony!" But the bastard only laughed.

"I would have just been ushered out by my nanny when you arrive, so don't be alarmed by the closing door." Steve nodded, then sucked in a deep breath and hugged Tony.

" _Thank you_ ," he said sincerely. "You are the most amazing friend I have ever had. I can only sucker punch villains and assholes for you, but you... You built me a damn time machine and neuralyzer just so that I can get closure with your father. I'm the one blessed with the privilege of being your friend." Tony hugged him back quickly then patted his back as they separated, but his smile was genuine. Then he took what could only be described as a helmet and plopped it on Steve's head.

"Keep Howard's attention away from this, and make sure to put it back on before the countdown ends," he instructed, and Steve nodded in understanding. Tony grabbed his face and leveled a stern look at him. "Twenty four hours, Steve. Do _not_ forget." Steve nodded once more then Tony led him to one of the office's corners and stepped back with a grin. "I'll be right here when you get back three seconds from now."

And then Steve was being blinded with dizzying light and motion before it suddenly all stopped.

................

Howard hunched back over his maps as the door slammed shut behind Tony and Stella. His son was becoming more and more precocious by the day, and Howard should probably start teaching him the basics of the family business. He just needed to finish up the plans for the next search, he owed Steve that much--he owed him so much more than that, but he was going to get started with the rest of his payback as soon as he was done with this.

He was going to find Steve.

He was.

"Hello, Howard," came a soft, almost careful greeting in an oh-so-familiar voice, and Howard's heart stopped. His mind was getting the better of him, his imagination running away. That's it, that's all it was because there was no way... No way... He turned back to his maps and reviewed the grid.

When someone, presumably the owner of that voice, sidled up beside him, he shut his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest, clenching his pencil so tight it almost snapped. Then a hand was on his, prying the pencil from his grip. He didn't allow it because visions should not be able to move him. It gave up, and Howard felt a small degree of triumph and a bigger one of disappointment, but then a kiss was pressed to the back of his neck, and the voice spoke once more.

"I'm real, Howard, and I'm here." It was then the Howard turned to see the blue eyes of Steve Rogers smiling down at him, and he snapped.

He shoved 'Steve' hard against his chest, sending him stumbling back, and ha! He would have never been able to do that to the real Captain America. Then he grabbed his gun from beneath his desk and aimed it at 'Steve's' face.

"Die Hydra scum," he growled before pulling the trigger.

The shot rang out loud, drilling painfully into Howard's ears, before it was muffled by the carpet beneath his feet. No blood stained it because 'Steve' had rolled away and jumped behind Howard before he finished his observation. 'Steve's' arms wrapped themselves around Howard's shoulders, and he hugged the genius tight.

"Howard, stop, it's me!" ‘Steve’ pleaded urgently, breathlessly. "Please believe me." Howard struggled against his strength while running through calculations in his head on ‘Steve's’ reflexes. They matched the real Steve's as perfectly as Howard could guess, which was impossible because the real Steve was dead.

Wasn’t he?

“You have four small scars on your hip because I had just come back from a month-long mission in Austria and wasn’t as careful as I should have been,” ‘Steve’ murmured against Howard’s ear, and he shouldn’t have known that. He shouldn’t. They were small, barely visible unless you knew where to look for it, and even then, Howard didn’t make a habit of showing off his naked hips in broad daylight. 

“On Dugan’s birthday, three months after we had started making love, we slipped away from them and into your quarters where you let me tie you up for the first time.” 

Howard’s heart slowed. 

“On my twenty-sixth birthday, you told me that when the war was over I was coming to live with you forever and you weren’t going to take no for an answer.” And he couldn’t have… No one could have know that because Howard had told him that in his private, reinforced lab in the dead of the night.

A tear fell from Howard’s eye. 

Then another. 

Then another. 

And then he was sobbing and sagging against Steve, and he couldn’t find it in himself to stop and pull away. Steve hugged him and crooned in his ear and apologized _which didn’t make sense because he was dead_.

“You--You’re here,” he gasped when he could, turning and holding Steve’s face in his hands. He stared into Steve’s eyes and saw love and guilt and joy and an earnestness that couldn’t be faked by man or machine. So Howard kissed him with every ounce of elation and despair and hope and love he could muster.

“I’m here,” Steve confirmed through the numerous kisses he and Howard couldn’t seem to stop. “I’m here, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Howard ignored his apologies and dragged him closer by the front of his shirt. Steve devoured him. He kissed him and plundered his mouth and claimed him again like he had done so so long ago. He grabbed his ass to wrap his legs around his waist like Howard weighed nothing, and oh, how Howard had missed this, had missed the was Steve could so easily manhandle him. But not here.

“Not here,” he gasped regretfully. Steve’s cock was hard against his own, and he almost said ‘fuck it,’ but this was something that deserved more than a quick fuck in the office. He wanted to be fucked properly.

“Where?” Steve growled urgently. He squeezed Howard’s ass and it was a shade too painful and exactly too perfect.

“Up--upstairs!” he gasped again. “Bedroom, _please_ , Steve!”

“Maria?” Steve asked, but he was already moving.

“Out. No one… We won’t be bothered.” Howard held tight as Steve sprinted through the hallway and up the stairs. At one point, a maid crossed the end of the hall, and Steve had to duck behind a pillar. That aside, they reached the room with no further issues.

Inside, Steve slammed him up against the nearest wall and sucked the life out of him through his mouth. He kneaded Howard’s ass and ground their hips together and Howard could only pant and moan.

“Missed you,” he whispered through another hundred kisses. “Oh, Howard, I missed you so damn much.”

“Steve--Steve…!” Howard answered, pressing his cock back against Steve. It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t anywhere _near_ close enough. “Bed. Bed, Steve. Fuck me. Please, hard. Fuck me hard!” Steve kissed him hard enough to bruise then set him down. He pulled off his shirt--plain white and way too tight--and his jeans and briefs. Howard almost fell to his knees right there and only didn’t because Steve pinned him back against the wall with his mouth and his hips and undressed him.

When their cocks slid together--for the first time in nearly thirty years--Howard sobbed. That was what made Steve pull away and press their foreheads together.

“I’ve missed you, Howard,” he murmured. “I’m going to fuck you right now, I’m going to ruin you, and you’re going to take it so perfectly like you used to.” Howard sobbed and nodded and accepted another kiss. “And then we’re going to talk, and I’m going to fuck you again and again and again until I’m sure you’re going to be feeling me for the next week.”

“Yes…!” Howard could only say. Steve nudged him toward the bed.

“Get on your back,” he ordered. “Where do you keep your lube?” Howard gestured towards the nightstand while he settled himself on the bed and spread himself open. Steve found it with no difficulty and slicked his fingers while climbing over Howard’s form. With no preamble, he shoved two fingers immediately into Howard’s bared hole. The genius wailed and bore down on the fingers. Steve ignored him and thrust his fingers in and out, spreading and stretching as he saw necessary. 

“Hands beside your head,” he ordered again while he pushed in a third finger. Howard keened at that, but complied immediately. Then Steve pulled out his fingers and slicked himself up. He threw Howard’s legs over his shoulders and leaned over him, bending him in half when he leaned closer to kiss him, and then he was pushing in, and Howard went out of his mind.

“Stay with me,” Steve said. “Open your eyes, Howard. Watch me take you.” Howard squeezed his eyes shut tighter, so Steve thrust hard, pulling a scream from Howard’s throat. “Look at me!” he insisted, and Howard could do nothing but obey. He stared into Steve’s blue, blue eyes while he was torn open and held there by Steve’s cock, while he was used and fucked and kissed and held by the only true lover he had really known, while he gave himself to Steve once more and forever.

And then he was coming, and Steve was coming, and all was right with the world again.

Steve pulled out as they were catching their breaths and slumped on the bed beside him. He reached out and pulled Howard to him, fitting their bodies together, so easy, so familiar.

“I love you,” he whispered and kissed Howard’s shoulder. “I never stopped loving you.” Howard twisted around in his arms so that he could look into his eyes.

“What happened? How did you--Who-- _How_?” Steve silenced him with a kiss.

“SHIELD found me,” he started with, and a million thoughts crossed through Howard’s mind, most of them angry.

“They should have--Peggy should have told--!” he started to say, but then… “…me… But… But you were dead long before SHIELD existed. We can’t have found you. You crashed that plane years before!” Howard started to pull away, but Steve grabbed his arms and held him tight. A pinprick of fear struck Howard because this wasn’t Steve, it couldn’t be.

“Not this SHIELD, Howard. I came from the future, from 2015. In 2012, SHIELD found the craft that I crashed and me in it. They defrosted me, and revived me and gave me back my shield,” Steve explained, and Howard looked at him like he was insane.

“That’s--”

“Unbelievable, I know, but… but just listen and keep an open mind. Please?” Steve pleaded, and it was crazy, but Howard was a futurist--it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility for time machines to exist in the future.

“Okay…” he agreed, though not without a degree of doubt. He listened while Steve told him about his defrosting and reintegration, about SHIELD and Nick Fury and the Chitauri. He listened to stories about the future, the sights and sounds and technology--oh, the technology! He listened to him regale funny and touching and inspiring stories of his teammates, the Avengers. 

Steve told him about Tony, and suddenly, Howard couldn’t have felt prouder of his son, of his intelligence and achievements and, more importantly, his character.

“Of course, if anyone could build a time machine, it would be Tony.” His voice was maybe just a little bit boastful, but really--a time machine! Steve smiled, but it was much too sad. Howard frowned. “What’s wrong?” Steve kissed him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said and maybe distracted him with three more rounds of sex.

“Maria?” he asked later that evening while Howard poured them drinks from the mini bar. Howard cleared his throat.

“We… uh… we don’t sleep together anymore,” he answered. “She… well, she won’t notice.” He crawled back over to Steve on the bed and presented one of the tumblers to him. Steve took it and sipped, looking contemplative as he did so. Then he took Howard’s cheek and pulled him closer for a kiss.

“I can’t stay…” he eventually confessed, and Howard’s heart broke.

“Why?” he asked.

“You should know, Howard; you’re more intelligent than I. You would know what would happen if I were to remain here…”

“Screw the future!” Howard suddenly snapped. “Screw them! You’re here now, and we can protect it from here, from now!” Steve kissed him.

“You can’t know that… You can’t know that, Howard,” he whispered. “I promised Tony that I would come back. I promised him, and he deserves that I keep my promise.”

“No… No! You can’t…” Howard broke. “…You can’t leave me for him,” he pleaded, pressing his face to Steve’s neck. “He has friends, he has his own lover. I have… I have no one, Steve…” Steve kissed him full of regret and apology, and for one moment, for one small moment, Howard believed he would stay.

“I’m sorry, Howard…” Then Howard shoved him and staggered off the bed.

“THEN YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE COME!” he screamed. Steve looked broken as he reached for Howard who stepped further away. “You shouldn’t have shown me that you’re alive only to tell me that I can never have you! You should have stayed away and saved me… this!”

“Howard--”

“Why _did_ you come, Steve?! What did you think would happen?! You told me you can’t stay because you can change the future. If that were the case, you shouldn’t have come at all! Shouldn’t have shown me you’re alive, and shouldn’t have told me about the future because this changes things, Steve, I am going to change--” He suddenly stopped, and Steve’s eyes full of apology confirmed it.

“I’m not going to remember this, am I?” he asked quietly. Steve took the chance to dart off the bed and grab Howard. He hugged him tight even as Howard struggled against him.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Howard.”

“You’re going to leave me like this? My heart broke when you crashed, and it hasn’t mended since.”

“I know, I’m sorry. This was selfish of me. I needed to see you one last time. I’m sorry,” Steve murmured. He pressed kisses of apology to Howard’s face. “I’m sorry…” Howard held still for a long moment. 

It hurt, it hurt _so much_. But… But the pain would fade to it’s dull roar like before. 

For now, he had Steve.

“When?”

“Same time tomorrow,” Steve answered. Fifteen hours then.

They made love, over and over again, words barely passing between them until the sun rose and beyond. Then Howard followed Steve back to the office, willing time to go slower with each step. Inside, Steve pulled him flush against his body and kissed him as though he had never done so before. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

Howard touched his fist to open it and found a set of dog tags in Steve’s palm. And a ring.

“Rogers, Steven Grant  
A.K.A. Captain America  
687-12-0432  
O-Positive  
Catholic,” the tags said.

“I love you, Howard -SR,” the inscription in the ring said.

Tears fell from Howard’s eyes as Steve put the tags and ring around his neck.

“I figured they wouldn’t have given you my old ones, so I want you to have these instead.”

“Steve… This might change things…” Howard said, worried. Steve kissed him.

“I love you,” was his only answer. Then he retrieved a… helmet? from a bookshelf in a corner of the room and pulled out a shiny silver object that looked a lot like a cigar tube. Steve put the helmet on his head (and frankly looked ridiculous in it), and held up the silver object for Howard’s inspection.

“Will that erase my memory?” he asked. He already knew the answer.

“I love you, Howard. I love you so much.” And Steve kissed him like it was the last time he was going to do so. It really was. He stepped back and held the tube up.

“I love you, Steve,” Howard answered just before a bright flash.

................

“You gonna be okay?” Tony asked, his hand on Steve’s shoulder as Steve knelt before Howard’s grave. Steve didn’t have to look up to see how uncomfortable Tony was here, but he could only feel grateful that Tony had come with him anyway. He stood up and brushed his pants off.

“Yeah,” he answered, then after a deep breath, a little more convincingly, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He turned to Tony to give his as grateful and genuine a smile as he could muster. Tony patted his shoulder and guided him back towards the car where they walked in near silence.

“Sorry, I couldn’t let you stay longer,” Tony eventually said. Steve shrugged.

“I understand,” he answered, and he did, really. His time with Howard had passed, and that moment that Tony had given him was more than he could have ever asked for.

“Yeah…” Tony trailed off. They climbed into the car in comfortable silence. “So…” Tony started as he gunned the engine, and Steve eyed him warily. “So Rhodey has this friend in the army that he’s been dying to introduce to you…”

“If you start setting me up again on those damn blind dates of yours, I swear I will tell you with excruciating detail exactly what I got up to with Howard while I was there.” Tony gave him a look of disgust.

“I am--Steve, I am trying to be a decent human being--which you of all people should know is, like, a miracle frankly. I’m trying to help you get over my father, to up your standards a bit.” Steve laughed. “After everything I’ve done for you, I can’t believe you’re this ungrateful!” he declared in a mock-offended voice. 

“Oh, I am _sure_ everything you have done is _completely_ selfless,” Steve pointed out and promptly earned an affronted gasp.

“That’s it, Rogers. That. Is. It! You--” Tony poked his shoulder. “You are out of my will!” Then proceeded to rant about exactly just how Steve was ungrateful, and he was just looking after Steve’s well being, and that anyone after his father could only be an improvement. 

Steve only laughed.


End file.
